This is the Human Heart
by Rogue28
Summary: After "These Are the Voyages," T'Pol finds a resolution to her grief with a gift from a surprising source.


**Author**: Rogue28  
**Title**: This is the Human Heart  
**Fandom**: Star Trek  
**Timeframe**: Immediately after _These Are the Voyages  
_**Spoilers**: _Demons_, _Terra Prime_, and _These Are the Voyages  
_**Summary**: T'Pol finds a resolution to her grief.  
**Disclaimer**: I wish it were mine, because things would have gone MUCH differently.  
**Notes**: This is sad. Like the episodes weren't.

She could count on one hand the number of times she'd cried as an adult.

One was when they were in the expanse, and she'd believed Captain Archer was dead, and she wept for a dear friend. One was when her mother had died, tears that she probably would have been scolded for. One was when Elizabeth had died, the daughter they'd only known for barely hours, and had torn her heart apart, but she'd had Trip near her for those, and her tears had mingled with his own, and she'd barely known they were crying.

Now, her tears, as Jonathan stood and spoke for the beginning of the new alliance he was building, streamed silently down her face. Trip would have loved to have seen this.

She'd thought she would cry when she'd packed up his things. And she thought she would cry when she met his parents, who despite their grief, managed to hug her with the same enthusiasm Trip had always exhibited. But she'd managed to keep up her mental fortress.

This was why she'd stayed behind as Jonathan had stepped out into the dais. Because after his impulsive hug—he, behind Trip, had always been able to read the flickering emotions hidden underneath her Vulcan mask, she could no longer control herself. He was the one she could call a true friend left in this world.

She sat where in the seat Phlox had just vacated to go find his wives. His wives. One day, she had hoped, long ago, she and Trip would have been married. She would have been his wife.

In a way she was glad. That would have only made this harder.

She could hear a hitch in Jonathan's voice, despite her distance, and knew he was thinking of Trip. If it hurt worse now to think of her mother, would it hurt worse to think of Trip later? Because if it did, she didn't think she could stand it.

…

"T'Pol," a voice said quietly at the edge of the room. The delegates had long since vacated the building. She'd greeted them, gone through the motions, hid her feelings behind her Vulcan exterior as best she could. But she couldn't move from this spot, and as the night had deepened and early morning feel, she remained.

"T'Pol," the voice repeated, and she looked up to see Soval's face. He moved to sit across from her. "You are not well."

She sat up straighter. "I am fine."

Soval shook his head. "You loved him dearly."

The words, spoken out loud, from Soval, who to T'Pol's knowledge, had never acknowledged the existence of such an emotion, broke the dam inside, and the tears flowed again. She doubled over, putting her hands to her face in shame to be seen this way.

Soval knelt next to her, letting her cry her tears out. "T'Pol, do you remember when I first assigned you to Enterprise?"

She took a deep breath, attempting to gain control of herself. "Yes."

"Do you remember your first interaction with Commander Tucker?"

"Vividly," she said, her tone somewhat frosty. He had been almost downright rude, but then, she later learned, so had she.

"And do you remember when you became friends? And how you learned to love one another?" Soval said.

She nodded, still not seeing his point.

He got up, sitting next to her. "Humans say Vulcans have no emotions, but we do. When we are angry, we are more angry than they could ever comprehend. And when we love, we love more deeply than they could ever know. The pain will never leave you, T'Pol, I learned this well when I lost M'Lin. The priests speak true. It is the Vulcan heart. It is the Vulcan soul."

He turned her head to look at him. "The Vulcan heart never forgets. But the Vulcan soul allows us to go on. You will go on. But you will not forget. Nor would you wish to."

"We had been apart many years," she whispered. "Since shortly after the death of our daughter."

"It did not extinguish your love for him," he said, holding up a hand. In it was a datachip. "And it did not extinguish his love for you. Somewhere in the last ten years, Commander Tucker learned to trust me enough to trust me to give this to you in the event of his death. I received a message from him, automatic, apparently." The old Vulcan straightened. "I believe it said, 'Soval, you old cantankerous Vulcan, I don't trust many people, but if there were four in the universe, it would be Captain Archer, T'Pol, Shran, and you. Shran's dead, so that just leaves the three of you. I'm not going to burden Jon with this if I'm dead, and I think you could use a lesson in humanity, so give this to T'Pol, and be thankful I'm not around to bug the—" he paused. "I believe it was an expletive. He charged me with bringing this to you, so I have fulfilled my duty."

"Have you seen it?" she asked quietly.

He nodded. "I believe that was his intention."

She grasped the card in her hand. "Thank you."

Soval rose, and handed her a datapad. "I thought perhaps you might not have one on your person."

She waited until he had left with a sweep of his robes out of the room. Taking a breath, she plugged the card into the pad.

The date was one she recognized all too well—it was the day their daughter Elizabeth had died. It had meant so much to him. But there was too much information there to be just one message, and she scrolled down quickly, only skimming dates, before realizing what this was.

The tears dropped onto the datapad—the message stopped the day of his own death. They were love letters—one each day.

Hugging the pad to her chest, she closed her eyes and whispered, "This is the human heart. This is the human soul."

…


End file.
